


Thunder No More

by Jesse



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: LOVINGLY GETTING FUCKED, M/M, Pure Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9467726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jesse/pseuds/Jesse
Summary: A continuation for some, an ending for more, and a beginning for others.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a standalone smut chapter from my fic [Oh Simple Thing](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6997555/). Enjoy it as it is, or enjoy it with the fic that it came from.
> 
> Header image courtesy of [August](http://starcallerrandgrid.tumblr.com/post/150085309731/).

 

The stagnant air inside Hanzo’s room only made Jesse’s soaked clothing feel hot and itchy, unlike how cool and heavy it had felt outside in the rain. The way that his skin burned from the adrenaline surging through his veins didn’t help much either. Hanzo’s lips tasted of raindrops and promises that he longed to believe, and Jesse could barely register the archer’s fingers quickly unknotting the damp strings of his jinbei, only focusing on the kiss. He could hear Hanzo huff against his teeth impatiently, still not daring to believe that this was actually happening.

“Hanzo,” he murmured, both of his hands gently running along the archer’s wet, silvery hair. He shuddered as a rush of air swelled over his chest, cooling the damp skin as Hanzo yanked the shirt from his shoulders.

“Do not talk,” the archer frowned, pulling Jesse’s hands away from his face in order to pull the shirt completely off. Hanzo’s hands gripped his biceps, hot hands meeting chilled skin, Jesse feeling like there was electricity surging between the two of them as it happened.

Slowly, as if hesitantly, Hanzo’s hands began to roam, just letting his palms glide gently over Jesse’s damp skin, careful to not let it catch too badly. Jesse let him, just soaking up the moment like he had the rain outside, hardly even registering Hanzo’s fingers curling behind his neck as their lips touched again. Hanzo’s other hand rested on his chest, fingers lightly trailing over the forest of greying chest hair that he didn’t bother to trim. They slowly slid over his breastbone, Jesse shivering lightly as he felt them dance over his ribs only seconds later. Just the intimate physical contact between them like this could have sustained Jesse for years to come, but it had also been years since he had last had anything like this, and even then, it hadn’t meant as much to him as this moment did, here and now.

Regardless of his emotional inner-workings, Jesse felt all of it come crashing to a halt as Hanzo’s fingers slid down to his waist, fingertips curling inside the waistband of his shorts. The way his heart began to thump was completely different than it had been a few moments ago, already knowing what Hanzo was wanting. The archer’s teeth bit gently into his lower lip, tugging for a few precious seconds before letting go.

“Get on the bed.”

Jesse immediately did as Hanzo ordered, already feeling the excitement build up in his chest, in tandem with the growing arousal inside the shorts that Hanzo had kept Jesse staying in. The archer joined him only seconds later, fairly climbing atop Jesse, one hand pressing against the cowboy’s chest to keep him laying on the neat stack of pillows. Straddling Jesse’s hips, Hanzo’s fingers pressed into the outlaw’s palms, lacing their fingers together, bringing their lips just as close. As much as Jesse longed to hold onto Hanzo while they kissed, he felt that Hanzo keeping his hands otherwise occupied was possibly for that exact reason. Hanzo did not want to be touched. Hanzo was the one in control of this entire situation.

And Jesse was more than fine with that.

The archer tasted less of raindrops and more of excitement and the promise of thrills that might soon come to pass, and Jesse found himself gently pressing Hanzo’s name against his teeth, dripping like honey from swollen lips and dying to be freed from the prison of his tongue. Hanzo uttered his name in return, sounding like a cross between a low growl and a gentle whisper. Jesse McCree had no idea how much he loved his own name until he could feel it on his own lips, escaping from Hanzo’s mouth, those dark eyes glimmering and silently telling Jesse that he meant it each time he said it. Jesse’s fingers trembled in Hanzo’s grip, fingertips pressed tightly against the archer’s scarred knuckles, taking care so that his left hand wouldn’t break any of his bones. The hand that had crushed steel in his palm was now holding onto Hanzo’s hand for dear life as the archer assaulted his body with fervent kisses, now having moved from Jesse’s mouth to his jaw. To his ears. Teeth nibbling on soft, sensitive flesh that hadn’t been touched like this in so damn long. Jesse could feel his body beginning to gently writhe under Hanzo’s touch, soft whimpers tumbling from his lips like hushed whispers. Hanzo’s fingers turned from hesitant and curious to urgent and impatient, calloused fingertips now feathering over Jesse’s hips once again, yet still leaving the shorts on.

"On your belly. Now." Hanzo's voice was rough, and threatened to tremble as McCree did as he asked even before he'd finished speaking. Fervently, he dug his fingers into the waistband of Jesse's shorts, not even giving ceremony to their removal.

Even at his old age, Jesse McCree still had a rather appealing ass. Hanzo couldn't seem to stop himself from pushing his palms against both cheeks, thumbs kneading into the soft muscle, Jesse chuckling softly under him.

"I'd think that this was your first time seeing someone's ass," Jesse quipped, teeth pressing into his lip to keep him from smiling like an idiot.

Huffing, the archer smacked the soft flesh under his palm, enjoying watching Jesse jump under his touch. "It is not my first," Hanzo grunted, gripping the red handprint he'd left behind, "And I do not intend for it to be my last."

He dragged his fingers across the toned muscles of Jesse's shoulders, gently pooling both palms in the soft skin of the outlaw’s lower back. Jesse bit his lip as Hanzo's thumbs pressed fervently into his skin, his fingers greedily gripping Jesse's bare hips.

The outlaw sucked in his breath, feeling his body already beginning to tremble under Hanzo’s steady fingers, hardly able to grasp the concept that this was actually taking place. Twenty years ago, during their time in Overwatch, Jesse would have given almost anything for the chance to have Hanzo to himself like this. _Well, better late than never,_ he thought to himself, a happily dumb grin toying over his lips.

Only when he heard the familiar crinkle of a foil packet did Jesse finally allow the situation to sink in, his erection pressing painfully against the bed beneath him, and Hanzo’s hand gripping his left cheek, pulling it to the side, exposing him as such.

“Aw Hanzo, no foreplay or nothin’?” Jesse chided playfully, rewarded by hearing the archer chuckle softly behind him.

“I have no patience for that right now, Jesse. Right now, I only want you, and it has come twenty years late.”

The words echoed in the cowboy’s head, fumbling with the concept that they aligned with his own thoughts just moments ago.

Jesse’s body instinctively jerked as he felt the cool, latex-tipped head of Hanzo’s cock pressing against his ass, the archer only rubbing it back and forth for a few minutes as he spread the excess lubricant around. Even now, Jesse’s heart rate was increasing, his breath hitching in his chest as he tried to keep his breathing under control. Nothing had even happened yet, but he was already so damn excited, and his body ached with anticipation.

Hanzo was a terrible tease, but he wasn’t a fool. He pressed a finger into the smattered drips of lube, coating it before gently but firmly slipping it inside that tight ring of muscle, ignoring Jesse’s body tensing, but respectfully stopping at the knuckle. His fingertip crooked downward, and then around, smearing the lubricant around the cowboy’s inner walls, taking his time before inserting the rest of his finger and continuing the process.

Poor Jesse was already beside himself, his fingers curling into the pillows beneath his body, completely relaxed as Hanzo prepared him. The mattress rocked under him ever so gently, and the motion was so familiar to Jesse that he knew even without looking that Hanzo was stroking himself, preparing for what was to come.

A second finger, more lubricant. Jesse let out a long, happy sigh into the pillow, loving the gentle laugh from Hanzo as he did so.

“No, this is not your foreplay, Jesse McCree,” Hanzo smirked, “But I’ll let you believe what you wish.”

Hanzo withdrew both fingers slowly and carefully, his hand once again going back to Jesse’s ass, pulling his cheek to the side. Jesse felt Hanzo’s cock one more time, but there was no rubbing, no teasing, none of that this time around. His lungs lodged in his throat as he felt the head of Hanzo’s dick slowly slide through the tight muscle, his body shuddering even as he tried to steel himself.

The noise from Hanzo sounded like a growl trapped in his throat, both of the archer’s hands now loosely gripping his hips as he remained still for a moment or two, letting both of them accommodate themselves as they were.

Slowly, carefully, Hanzo tugged himself back just barely, enough to give off the physical illusion of movement, and then slowly pressed forward, both in a figurative and literal sense, sliding himself deeper, rewarded by the generous moaning of the cowboy underneath him.

The faint glimmer of lightning flickered through the paper walls, followed by a roll of thunder, yet it was unheeded by both Jesse and Hanzo. The strokes were still slow, Hanzo taking his time to carefully pull back, and gently thrust again. He began to establish a rhythm with languid, steady motions, his right hand on Jesse’s hip, the other once again resting on the outlaw’s lower back. Hanzo’s fingers curled into Jesse’s skin as he began to quicken his pace, confidence building in his chest and a crooked smile dominating his face.

Both of Jesse’s hands were tightly curled, the sheets wrapped up into his fists as the rest of his body was naught but melting wax under Hanzo’s hands and the rhythm of his motions. Too damn long had it been since he’d let someone do this to him, but it had been even longer since he had once fantasized about this exact scene. A literal dream come true.

“Fuck, Hanzo, I-”

“Do not talk,” Hanzo interrupted, his fingertips pressing firmly into Jesse’s skin, silencing him as he further quickened his pace. For Hanzo, it was not about mutual gratification; it was about doing what he should have done twenty years ago when he’d had the chance. He was going to take Jesse for himself; claim him, and make him his. Jesse wouldn’t understand his fervor, nor was Hanzo going to tell him. It was irrelevant, and Jesse would not understand. Hanzo would just have to live with that.

Jesse’s moans were now in sync with his quick, sharp thrusts, the outlaw’s voice no longer being muffled by the pillow as he laid his cheek on top of it, desperate to breathe. With no words to speak, he could only make sounds, and every single one was music to the archer’s ears. Both of Hanzo’s hands now tightly held Jesse’s hips, using the outlaw’s body for ballast as he kept thrusting himself forward. A sharp breath of air escaped his lips with each thrust, sometimes trilling into a feathered moan, but he tried to keep them resting on his molars where only he would know of their presence. Despite his rigid formalities, Hanzo wasn’t getting any younger, and he also hadn’t engaged in such activities for years now. Almost shamefully did he internally acknowledge his mounting climax, huffing loudly as he shoved himself in deeper.

Having moved his hands from the sheets to the pillows, Jesse kept one pressed under his head, fingers curled tightly against the pillowcase as he tried to keep his body from curling in on itself.

“Darlin’, you got me all.. I’m about to..”

Hanzo’s teeth sunk into his lip, knowing that if he spoke, it would be over too soon, but that tactic lasted only for a few seconds. He felt Jesse’s body shudder under his, a long, drawn-out moan spilling from Jesse’s lips as the outlaw came.

There was no way he could ignore that.

A shaky groan forced its way from Hanzo’s mouth as he made his final thrust, his lungs now uttering Jesse’s name as he felt himself filling the condom in multiple, heavy spurts. His hands went from the outlaw’s hips to the bed, trying to hold himself up on shaking arms. Sweat dripped from the archer’s forehead onto Jesse’s lower back as he remained still, panting as he tried to fill his lungs but felt that was all in vain. Carefully, he withdrew himself, both of their bodies shuddering as he did so. The condom was carefully slipped off, knotted, and carelessly tossed onto the floor as Hanzo felt Jesse’s hands wrap gently around his chest, pulling him back to the bed. Hanzo made no move to resist, his body exhausted and limp against Jesse’s warm chest.

Jesse kept both arms protectively wrapped around the archer’s body, holding him close, enjoying the small tremors that gently coursed through his body, but even more so loving how quickly Hanzo fell asleep.

They stayed that way, asleep. Warm, damp from sweat.

Nothing would ever take that.


End file.
